Silver noticed the envelope the moment she sat down.
It lay neatly on her desk, ivory-colored, unmarked except for her name written in clean, deliberate handwriting.
Silver Adams.
Her breath slowed.
No one else in the office seemed to notice it. Phones rang. Keyboards clicked. Laughter floated from the break area. The world moved on, unaware that something had quietly shifted.
She didn't open it right away.
Instead, she stared at it, her mind replaying the messages from the night before. Walk away while you still can.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid the envelope closer.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
No letterhead. No signature.
Just words.
You have seven days.
Resign quietly and end your relationship with Raymond Cole.
If you don't, everything you're trying to protect will be exposed.
Her chest tightened painfully.
At the bottom of the page was a photo—printed, not digital this time. Another angle of her and Raymond, closer than the others. Too close to explain away.
Silver folded the paper carefully, her hands cold. This wasn't intimidation anymore.
This was an ultimatum.
She didn't tell Raymond.
Not yet.
She went through the day in a haze, nodding when spoken to, answering emails automatically. Every smile felt forced. Every laugh rang hollow.
At lunch, she avoided the lounge, retreating to the rooftop instead. The city stretched endlessly below her, loud and alive, while she felt impossibly small.
Seven days, she thought.
Seven days to choose between love and survival.
Raymond knew something was wrong the moment he saw her again that evening.
She was quieter. Distant. Her eyes didn't quite meet his.
"Silver," he said gently once they were alone in his office, "what happened today?"
She shook her head too quickly. "Nothing. Just tired."
He didn't accept it. "You're lying."
Her breath caught. "I'm protecting you."
His expression darkened—not with anger, but concern. "From what?"
She turned away, gripping the edge of the desk. "From being dragged into something ugly."
Raymond stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Silver, if someone is threatening you—"
"They're not," she interrupted, too sharply. She softened immediately. "Not exactly."
He searched her face. "You don't have to carry this alone."
She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But fear whispered louder than reason.
"I just need time," she said quietly.
Raymond nodded slowly, though tension tightened his shoulders. "All right. But don't shut me out."
She promised she wouldn't—though even as the words left her mouth, she wasn't sure she could keep them.
That night, Silver received another message.
Unknown Number: Did you get the letter?
Unknown Number: Tick-tock.
She turned her phone face-down and pressed her palms into her eyes.
Across the city, Raymond sat with his mother for the first time in weeks.
"You've put yourself in a vulnerable position," Mrs. Cole said calmly, folding her hands over her knee. "Your personal life is bleeding into your professional one."
Raymond leaned back. "I'm aware."
"And yet you continue," she added. "Despite the risk."
"Yes."
She studied him. "The girl—Silver—she's already causing complications."
Raymond's jaw tightened. "She's not the problem."
"Raymond," his mother said softly, "you've worked your entire life to reach this position. Don't let emotion undo it."
He met her gaze. "Emotion is not weakness."
"Neither is knowing when to walk away," she replied. "Celeste would never put you in this position."
Raymond stood. "Celeste is not who I love."
His mother sighed. "Then be prepared to lose more than just peace."
The next morning, Silver was called into Human Resources.
Her pulse raced as she sat across from the HR manager, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"We've received an anonymous complaint," the woman said carefully. "Nothing formal yet. But there are concerns about… boundaries."
Silver swallowed. "I've never let my work suffer."
"We know," the manager said gently. "This is just a precaution."
A warning.
Silver nodded, forcing composure. "I understand."
As she left the office, the weight of it settled heavily on her chest. The blackmailer wasn't just threatening anymore.
They were moving pieces.
By evening, Silver stood in her apartment, the resignation letter half-written on her laptop.
All she had to do was finish it.
End this quietly.
Protect Raymond. Protect herself.
A knock sounded at the door.
She froze.
Then opened it.
Raymond stood there, eyes sharp, jaw set. "We need to talk."
Her heart sank.
"I know about HR," he said.
Her breath hitched. "How?"
"I'm the CEO," he replied flatly. "And someone is trying to corner you."
She stepped back, voice trembling. "Raymond—"
He caught her hands gently. "Whatever they're asking of you, don't agree. Not without me."
Tears welled in her eyes. "What if the price is losing you?"
His expression softened, fierce and tender all at once. "Then they've underestimated us both."
She broke then, tears spilling freely. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if the world itself were trying to tear her away.
And for the first time since the threats began, Silver felt something stronger than fear.
She felt resolve.
Because silence had a price.
And she was no longer willing to pay it alone.